What If It Was

For the first time, she was truly alone.

Zheng Ziyi ran her hand slowly over the surface of the new door Yuanzheng had installed. She pushed it shut, and stood still letting the silence sink in.

Looking around her, she gazed at the inside of the hut. It looked different--smelt different, with the scent of freshly cut planks and sawdust mixed with the faintest trace of smoke. Together, the villagers had slowly worked at rebuilding the burned homes; they had managed to patch the roof and replace the scorched planks. The place felt strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar.

Wonderingly, she sat down slowly at the table and rested her head in her hands. The past few days had been a daze. The funeral had been a blur; every night she had been haunted by powerfully vivid dreams of Haoran, good and bad memories mixed together in one

Drearily she stared at the corner where she remembered cowering, the first time he had ever hit her, fear and pain throbbing within her. The bench where they had sat excitedly talking about their plans for the future, still newly married, still full of hopes and dreams; how they would earn enough to buy another cow, and raise some chickens, and maybe eventually earn enough for a larger plot of land--

"Madame Zheng," called a voice from outside.

She roused herself and got up, going to the door. Zheng Ziyi started slightly as she saw Suzhen standing at the gate, holding a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief.

"Madame Xu," she said hesitantly, and her voice sounded timid. Going down the path, she stood awkwardly in front of her.

Suzhen held out the bundle with a brief smile. "I made some baos," was all she said. "Eat them while they're hot."

The bundle stayed there for an almost uncomfortable pause, then Zheng Ziyi finally reached out and took it, reluctantly. It was soft, and warm. She caught a whiff of steamed buns.

"Thank you," she murmured, but she avoided looking at Suzhen, and sounded almost ashamed.

Suzhen bent her head silently in acknowledgement and went away. Zheng Ziyi watched her go, and walked slowly back to her house, lost in thought. She dumped the bundle unceremoniously down on the table and stared at it uneasily.

Shaking her head, she pushed it away without bothering to open it. "I couldn't eat it," she said absently to herself. "I couldn't. The kinder she is to me, the more afraid I am."

She buried her chin in her hands, perplexed. Something like fear was in her eyes as she brooded.

"What if?" she whispered to herself. "What if it was?"

Her hands clutched at each other. The silence in the hut had become oppressively heavy, filled with tension.

Zheng Ziyi stood up abruptly. There was a desperate expression on her face. She caught up her cloak and walked swiftly out of the door, leaving the bundle on the table without a second glance back.

Granny Hong opened the door as there was several muffled knocks on it, and looked surprised when she saw Madame Zheng standing there.

"Ziyi," she said inquiringly. "Do you need anything? Can I help you?"

Zheng Ziyi bowed. "I'm looking for the holy man. I wish to talk to him for a while, in private, if that is possible. Is he around?"

Granny Hong's face cleared and she nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see, of course, of course. That's a good idea, my dear. Who else but him could help you to find peace. You will feel better after talking to him, I'm sure. He's just in the yard, you should see him if you walk out. Tell me if you can't find him."

Zheng Ziyi nodded and disappeared without another word.

Fahai was standing in the yard as Granny Hong had said, facing the mountains. His eyes were closed, but his lips were moving slightly as if he was chanting a silent prayer. Timidly, Madame Zheng stood behind him, too afraid to disturb him.

The wind sighed through the leafless branches of the trees, and the monk's tall, gaunt form remained motionless as a statue. She waited, and waited, so acutely conscious of each second that there seemed to be a clock pulsing inside her brain, every tick throbbing in her temples.

She waited till she felt like her heart was about to explode. All the while uneasiness clung to her, and her skin prickled as if someone was behind her, breathing down her neck. Several times she started and turned guiltily, half expecting to see someone behind her.

She waited till she could bear it no longer. Softly she cleared her throat.

The monk's eyes flickered open and he turned. "Who is it?"

"It is I, reverend sir." she said lowly. "Please give me your advice. I am very troubled, and afraid."

He looked searchingly at her. "Your husband. Is it about him?"

She came closer, glancing around nervously. "You said my husband was killed by a demon. Is that true?"

Fahai frowned. "Do you then still not believe it, even after Physician Xu himself agreed?"

Zheng Ziyi continued without bothering to answer him. "You said the demon could be mixing among us, not necessarily just on the mountain. You said that the demon could well be hiding itself with a human form, looking no different from any of us."

A new expression came into the monk's eyes. He waited, watching her intently.

She came yet closer, and he saw that her lips were dry and pale. "Is it possible that the demon is living among us here?" she whispered.

"You suspect someone," Fahai said slowly.

"I don't know." she gasped wildly. "Oh, I don't know! But I'm afraid. I have no peace. It haunts me. What if it was? What if I'm right? I thought, I must just tell you--you will know what to do, won't you?" She looked pleadingly at him.

"Who are you talking about?"

The words were barely audible but he would have made them out, even if she had only mouthed them.

"Bai Suzhen. Physician Xu's wife."

Fahai drew a deep breath. "Ah!" was all he said, but there was a gleam in his eye.